


Walk away with victory

by gloss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Hand Jobs, M/M, PostWar, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Sunbathing, US hellscape consolation porn, shameless otp schmoop, space weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: Finn and Poe don't know what they're going to do, but for now, they're floating on a giant lily pad, half-naked, getting more stoned so, you know. No complaints.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [savvymavvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvymavvy/gifts).



> For M., who consoled *me* with the mental image of Poe and Finn stoned and half-naked.
> 
> Title from Al Green, "[Love and Happiness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsU6_eSG4k4)"; this is the second time I've taken a title from this most romantic and sexass of songs. It's an OTP anthem, it really is.

You get used to everything happening at once. When it's over and the dead are mourned and societies are rebuilding and skies are no longer resounding with shrieks, it can feel like nothing's happening. Like it's so quiet, your own breath gutters around your ribcage and your thoughts weigh more, much more.

"Or maybe, just maybe," Finn says as Poe trails off, "you're stoned."

"That, too," Poe admits. He nods sagely. "You make a good point."

The sky above them is so blue and empty that it's almost white. The system's single sun squats at its zenith, bleaching everything down to the horizons.

They're reclining on the leaf of an enormous aquatic herb; there's still room around them for another two or three people.

But it's just them, for hundreds of kilometers around. This shallow freshwater sea extends in every direction, its placid surface only occasionally disturbed by a hot breeze, like someone's exhalation. The leaf is smooth to the touch, slightly rubbery, and more than strong enough to support their weight.

They swam out here in the short-sleeved wetsuits the locals favor, but those got unzipped quickly. Neither realized just how starved they are for natural light and intense heat. Poe's wetsuit, tugged down off his arms and chest, puddles under his ass, just like the torso to his flight suit once did, while Finn wriggled out of his entirely. He's draped a big, purple flower over his groin to protect it from the sun. The sunscreen they rubbed in before leaving land is great, but not recommended for what Poe insists calling "the fun zone".

Since his last toke and disquisition upon the differences between war and peacetime, Poe has been watching two sweat droplets amble down Finn's chest. He'd been betting that the right-side one would reach the nipple first, but the other sped up and now it's beading right on the puckered skin that's the color of stormy midnight skies.

Poe reaches over and flicks Finn's nipple. "Hi."

"Ow," Finn says without much force. "Watch it."

"I _was_ watching, hence, here I come --" Poe crawls forward on his elbows to lick up the sweat. 

"Mmm, okay." Finn wraps an arm around Poe's neck and pushes up against his mouth. "That's nice."

Poe glances up, grinning as he thrums his tongue up against the nipple's underside. 

The purple trumpet flower jumps and slips a bit. Poe pulls back, chuckling, when Finn reaches down to adjust it.

"You were the one who told me to cover it," Finn points out.

"Because you're precious to me! I've been sunburned there, man, it's the worst and there's no way I'd be able to keep my hands off you anyway, so. For the best."

"You could take another two-week freight gig," Finn says.

"Shut up," Poe responds, which is a very intelligent and highly coherent reply. "You know I said I wouldn't."

First Order remnants blew the freight convoy out two separate hyperlanes; only Poe and Karé Kun, in an entirely separate ship, survived.

Poe has sworn up and down that he'll look for work closer to home. 

Once, you know, they settle on where home's going to be. Then they'll figure out what the fuck they're going to do there.

"Pass me the pipe again," Poe says after a bit. 

"You're so gone, man," Finn tells him, elbowing him, laughing.

"Come on, I can handle it." Poe sits up, pulling his knees up to his chest. That's when he sees the pipe in his left hand. "Oh, hey, check it out."

Finn leans up on one elbow. "Need a hand?"

Scowling, Poe sucks in hard and fast on the simmering pipe. When he replies, his voice is squeezed into a high falsetto. "Watch it, junior. I was --" He lets the smoke out with a huge sigh. "I was doing this before you were born."

"That's just...worrisome, more than anything," Finn says as he snatches the pipe for himself.

"Early bloomer," Poe says and wags his finger, then gets a little hypnotized by the motion. "Impressive, not worrisome."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." Finn inhales, making the operation look somehow both elegant and efficient. He tips back his head, eyes closed, to let the spice spread its tendrils through him, warm and loose and quick. When he exhales, the cloud hangs above him like it, too, is loath to leave his proximity.

Lungs empty, spice just beginning to buzz again, Finn lies back down, along Poe's side. He pillows his head on one arm and squints, trying to make out Poe's features in the glare. All he can see is the riot of frizzy curls, dip of nose, pebbly shadow of beard along sharp jaw. He reaches up and traces the line of nose-mouth-chin with two hesitant fingers.

"You all right down there?" Poe asks quietly. Finn can see his lips move, dip in the corners, stretch into a gentle smile.

"You're, like." Finn blinks and it takes him several moments to remember to open his eyes. "Very handsome."

Poe snorts, then cups the back of Finn's head and pulls him up to kiss him. Finn's scalp is molten-hot against his palm, the faint suggestion of hair soft as fine fabric. They both taste like spice -- resinous smoke, sweet and heavy -- and the sea. Finn gets both arms around Poe and yanks him down, so Poe's half on top of him, his legs kicked out over the expanse of the leaf and Finn's dipping dangerously close to the water. 

The kiss deepens as they groan, as Poe rolls onto his back, down to the center spine of the leaf, pulling Finn with him. They're so stoned and heat-dazed that this might go on for hours, or just several minutes.

"where's the pipe?" Poe whispers when he reluctantly breaks for breath.

"You want _more_?"

He gives Finn his best imitation of Finn's own lazy, horny, half-smirk. "I want it _all_ , babe."

Finn shoves him. "More _spice_ , dumbass."

"No," Poe says, rolling half into the water for dramatic effect before scrambling back and throwing himself at Finn. "I'm good. Lungs hurt, brain's kind of dissolved."

"Awww."

"It's very tragic, yes," Poe says, treating Finn's sympathy as if it were sincere. "I'm not as young as I used to be, need to take it slower --"

"Slower than what?" Finn sprawls on his stomach, his glorious ass up for the sun to worship it. 

Poe sucks in one last toke, just because he can, because the worst that can happen is that he passes out and gets a sunbrn. He leans in, pinching Finn's chin, thrusting his tongue deep into Finn's mouth and breathing out. Finn sucks him in, tongue and smoke, _hard_. The sensation speeds right down Poe's spine.

"Fuck." Poe sort-of mounts him, one leg over Finn's, dick riding the space between Finn's hip and the leaf, his mouth against Finn's neck. 

"You were saying?" Finn shifts against him, rubbing a little against the leaf. "About taking it slower?"

"Slower than...something. What was I talking about?"

"Hell if I know," Finn says, rolling up, bringing Poe with him. He pushes his hand down the back of Poe's wetsuit to grab one cheek. "You tend to talk a lot and sort out sense later, if ever."

Poe opens his mouth to protest. "No, yeah, that's fair," he says instead, getting his fingers around Finn's dick. "Kiss me again?"

"Sure," Finn says and grins, brighter than the star and the sky and the whole shining sea around them. They're kneeling now, the leaf holding them up, kissing like they've got all the time in the world.

Because they do, finally, _somehow_.

Later, Poe wants to fuck in the water, but Finn reminds him, just in time, of the aquatic serpents and the urethral-burrowing micro-crustaceans. So they settle for this, floating in the dazzling glare, jerking each other off while muttering terrifically stupid dirty promises that are at once fervent and anatomically impossible. They finish with Poe kneeling over Finn's face, fucking his beautiful mouth while his own lips push right down to Finn's bush as he swallows and coughs and splutters and sucks some more.

When they nap afterward, Poe tucks his hand protectively over Finn's dick. 

He has iridescent pollen from the now-lost flower all around his mouth and smeared down one cheek. Finn says he looks like an Ewok let loose in the megaberry patches of Glavon-7.

"That," Poe murmurs as sleep starts to take him, elaborating the stoned buzz and post-orgasmic thrill into deeper, warmer relaxation, "is the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Finn works his fingers into Poe's hair and kisses his eyelids. "Don't snore."

"Fuck you, I'll snore if I want."

"Okay," Finn says and kisses him again. 

It's nonsense, evaporating faster than the spice smoke, drying faster than sweat and spunk, and they've got a lifetime of it to trade and bicker over and tickle each other with.

**Author's Note:**

> more Finn and Poe nonsense on [my tumblr](http://spaceoperafeerie.tumblr.com/) ♥


End file.
